Current 93 - The Seven Seals Are Revealed at the End of Time as Seven Bows: The Bloodbow, the Pissbow, the Painbow, the Faminebow, the Deathbow, the Angerbow, the Hohohobow | Текст песни

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• The Seven Seals Are Revealed at the End of Time as Seven Bows: The Bloodbow, the Pissbow, the Painbow, the Faminebow, the Deathbow, the Angerbow, the Hohohobow

The Seven Seals are Revealed at the End of Time as Seven Bows: the Bloodbow, the
Pissbow, the Painbow, the Faminebow, the Deathbow, the Angerbow, the Hohohobow

THEN the morning after. A time and a time and a time and a time; all shall be
well or not. As the bluegreenbrown world is drenched with horsegore, and the
redseas are covered with horsehair, the ThreeGod arises. As a sign of Betrayal
- His? Ours? - a vast Bloodbow covers the skies. One dips into a broken bowl
full of sadness, the other into seven hundred children with horses' heads in
different stages of decomposition. Across the Bloodbow a hundredthousand
betrayers are nailed and lost. To the sound of the mewling of eight million
cats all those who have betrayed humanity twist and turn. Step forward, if you
can, Satan in many scumcoloured forms. Histermarks. If you have had ears better
to have slain them there on the warplain of your face. Hell is paved, despite
the Balance, with tedium and loss. Hell is where the steeds then betray the
horsemen, and the horsemen betray their steeds, and and and and. The Bloodbow
begins to discolour: streams of urine begin to gush from the blackbending
heavens and hells that have circled everything so very quickly. The Redbloodbow
gives birth to a Ureabow. ThreeGod starts to weep. Then all the angels weep.
Then all the demons weep. The stench of the universal uric acid fills all the
worlds ever ever existing. The Bloodbow is replenished by a rain that ascends
from the bodies of the damned on earth. Huge clots of gore and blood and lymph
rise up, ripping through the flesh of the lost; the Bloodbow increases in size,
and bubbles and seethes. Unable to take any more, just over the surface of the
earth a thick plain of screaming congeals into the Painbow, which hovers and
turns above the soil. Alas! A high pitched singing emerges; bones, some
gleamingteethywhite, some shitdustbrown, start to clatter from the Painbow. A
ricketty arch is hesitantly built by the rothorsekids from the bones and bones:
the Faminebow. "We are so hungry, so very hungry" they sigh. They die, their
hunger to be forever unassuaged. Their rotting bodies arise in clumps 'n' bits
'n' bobbins, forming over the Bonebow - that is to say, the bubbling Faminebow,
a new, special experience. A grotty rotty mass of children's and horses' grey
flesh, death in all its mumbling and dull colours, step or crawl right up for
the Deathbow. ThreeGod has been so angry with us all whilst this is happening;
His frown fills up one trillion universes, or more if you please or if you
don't. His pursed lips fill up even more universes than His frown, as His anger
grows as it descends His face. This immeasurable frown becomes the inverted
Angerbow; an upsidedown 'U' that is constituted entirely of choler and spit,
pick 'n' mix... stones and sticks... 'n' 666 - it makes me sick!
Then He sees, in His mercy, that the Worlds have all passed away. The frown
passes, and ThreeeGod starts to laugh. The farce is over, the wasted experiment
over, and His jolly laugh becomes the HoHoHoBow.
All the starres are dead now.
And so we pass away.

Whilst the Gods play
We pass away

(Yet the stars and the moon and the sun and the comets and the little birds and
the little lights and the little animals tath sing to God God bless the little
animals and the little animals that scream to God please O Lord bless the
little animals that weep and weep and weep they are approaching the
Greatbluegate of Death itself oh Lord hear me when I shout and shout and shout
my heart is almost empty)

Anyhow, once I looked at the stars, and they were all blood. Over the
Southerncross she arose, redbloodyred, as I think she was, Luciferette and how
she shined. Overthere in the west, where alas she had begun to set, dead
children were singing. Out of my window, beyond Mao Rao and Yao w

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